


Accidental (Team Free) Lovin' - (Bow Chika Wow Wo- argh! My eyes!)

by Cranky_ol_Fangirls



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:30:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cranky_ol_Fangirls/pseuds/Cranky_ol_Fangirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester finally succumbs to his ‘more than friends’ feelings for Castiel. It is a sickeningly romantic evening. When they return to the shabby motel room, however, they discover the evening wasn’t romantic at all. It was... Tainted. So very, very tainted. (Revised 2016/03/02)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accidental (Team Free) Lovin' - (Bow Chika Wow Wo- argh! My eyes!)

A gentle moon, along with the many stars that softly speckled the night sky, gazed down fondly upon a desolate highway. The celestial bodies illuminated the parking lot below. A parking lot set right next to the road to pick up the weary travelers (few as they may be) for the cheap motel it belonged to. The eerily quiet and overgrown highway, the rundown motel with an aura of sleaze and the parking lot full of cracks and faded stall lines are the only human structures for miles in all directions. The rest was wilderness.  
  
  
The moon’s glow blanketed the forlorn scene below her. Her light smoothed over the roughness of the concrete. Her light softened the shabby vehicles appearances by hitting every reflective surface amidst their filth thereby masking their flaws (well, except the one that was flawless to begin with). Her light embraced the flickers of incandescent light of the motel and together bathed the parking lot in a sepia aura.  
  
  
The cheap and dirty motel wasn't cheap and dirty tonight.  
  
  
Not under the moon's rays.  
  
  
No. The atmosphere was... _Romantic_.  
  
  
Normally this would make Dean Winchester sick to his stomach and run for the hills. He wasn’t romantic. He couldn’t afford to be, not with his lifestyle. Having been burned too many times before, he’s learned to take what he can get then move on because that _fit_ into a life on the road. Casual sex is the norm. Romance is deviant. Thus when faced with romance he is sickened and he runs.  
  
  
However, he wasn't looking down at the glowing pavement beneath his feet, nor the glistening cars around him, nor the motel bathed in a sepia glow behind him, nor the sky which was most romantic and beautiful of all (not that he looked up at the sky much, unless a homicidal spirit flew overhead or when in desperation he cries out to a God he doesn't believe in 'Why?').  
  
  
No, the romantic atmosphere was completely and utterly lost on Dean.  
  
  
He need not hurl or run…  
  
  
…or so one would believe.  
  
  
“Dean?”  
  
  
The speaker, with the deep gravelly voice, is all Dean could see at the moment. Pale skin luminous and sharp features glowed under the moon’s soft light. His stubble a gentle shadow sweeping across his jaw and his hair pitch black with flecks of blue where the light hits. Most captivating of all are his eyes, a blue so striking that they shone despite his natural squint.  
  
  
Castiel.  
  
  
Under the moon’s light he truly looked like the angel of the Lord that he is.  
  
  
But now his eyes were wide, in confusion and concern, their intensity increasing ten-fold.  
  
  
“Dean? Are you alright?” he asked as he leaned forward, his nose inches away from Dean’s. Struggling to discern the source of the hunter’s awkward posture, he cocked his head to the side in a bird-like manner.  
  
  
Dean flinched and his breath caught in his throat so suddenly he actually choked a bit. Once his airway cleared his breathing was rapid. He flushed scarlet. His palms were now clammy. He fidgeted. He was extremely awkward.  
  
  
Yet... He didn’t back away. He didn’t run.  
  
  
_What are you doing, man?_ his mind screamed at him. _Get it together!  
  
  
_ “Per-Personal... Space... Cas...”  
  
  
_What the fuck, Dean? Just push him away like you always do—_  his mind stopped there for it realized that its advice was faulty. To push Castiel away would mean to push him back _against the impala_.  
  
  
He would be _pushing the angel up against his precious car.  
  
  
_ That shouldn’t have any romantic implications. It’s a thought that should _not_ have been sexy but...  
  
  
_Oh Hell...  
  
  
_ He was succumbing to romance.  
  
  
_This... Am I starting another fucking apocalypse?  
  
  
_ “Oh, right.” Castiel slowly broke eye contact, like a kicked puppy “Sorry, Dean.”  
  
  
An arm aggressively grasped Castiel’s arms as he made to move away. Both men wore expressions of surprise (though Dean’s was slightly horrified as well) as they gaped at the hand that gripped Castiel tight.  
  
  
“Uh...”  
  
  
“Dean?” Castiel pried his eyes from Dean’s hand only to bore into Dean’s eyes. Dean stared right back and... melted.  
  
  
“Cas.”  
  
  
Dean caved. His expression softened into a fond smirk and his eyes twinkled. He loosened his grasp on Castiel’s arms. As he removed it, he hesitated on its next destination. Steeling his resolve, he brought his calloused hand up to Castiel’s jaw and cupped his face gently.  
  
  
The stubble prickled his skin, a feeling he wasn’t used to, but Castiel’s endearing shocked yet pleased expression made the hunter realize the truth. This wasn’t a mistake. This wasn’t wrong. No, this was indeed a _profound bound_.  
  
  
Now he was mildly distracted by the prospect that maybe this is what Cas had meant when he coined that term for their relationship. Odds were that the angel was just as clueless, though.  
  
  
The sudden feeling of cool fingertips awkwardly grazing his cheek jerked him out of his thoughts. He flinched in surprise and his startled eyes caught Castiel’s expression wilting at the reaction.  
  
  
“No, wait!”—Dean swiftly caught the strong wrist as the angel pulled his hand away and jerked it back to press it against his own stubbled cheek—“I’m sorry. I was just lost in thought and you surprised me. I wasn’t... I wasn’t pulling back, Cas.”  
  
  
Dean gave Cas a rare smile: a smile of genuine happiness. That, and the feel of the muscles under his fingers contorting into that smile, reassured the angel. This lead to an even rarer occurrence: Castiel smiled. Not only did he smile, he beamed.  
  
  
At that, Dean’s smiled widened into a grin. Overwhelmed by the feelings and the situation, all he could do was laugh. Castiel cocked his head at his.  
  
  
“I did not think laughter was the appropriate response but this is... good?”  
  
  
“Yes, Cas,” Dean tenderly brushed his thumb against Castiel’s cheek, as he had yet to let go, “this is good.”  
  
  
Castiel smiled brilliantly at this. Dean chuckled lightly before pushing him back gently, so that the angel was up against the impala, and leaned in closer than they ever had before.  
  
  
“Smiling looks good on you, Cas. You should do that more.”  
  
  
The radio of the impala suddenly squealed with static but neither man heard it as it was muted by the steel and glass. Also, they were distracted. _Very_ distracted.  
  
  
“I haven’t really known how until now.” Castiel replied as he placed his free hand on Dean’s shoulder, right where the angel’s hand print marked Dean’s flesh.  
  
  
The impala’s windshield wipers suddenly started working furiously, the muted cries of the radio ongoing in the background. Again, the disturbance goes unnoticed.  
  
  
“This should be weird...But it’s _so_ not.”  
  
  
“How very articulate, Dean.”  
  
  
“Shut up, Cas.”  
  
  
Taking advantage of the convenient position of his hand, he swiftly dragged his fingers down the angel’s jaw to under the chin. He then tipped Castiel’s head back and pressed a slow, chaste kiss to his lips.  
  
  
The impala’s headlights started flashing frantically in addition to the screeching of the radio and the flailing of the windshield wipers. Alas, they are all ignored.  
  
  
“Wow.” Castiel breathed when Dean pulled back. “I now understand the appeal of this gesture.”  
  
  
“But what about when you imitated the pizzaman—”  
  
  
“I _now_ understand the appeal of this gesture.”  
  
  
A moment of silence as Dean processed the restated words. Once the meaning sunk in, the floodgates burst open.  
  
  
Dean lunges forward and pulls Castiel forward roughly, so desperate he couldn’t wait even a millisecond, and crushes their lips together. The angel, though surprised and awkward at first, catches on quickly and the kiss becomes heated. That is, until Dean jerks back suddenly, pushing Castiel away.  
  
  
“Ow! Mah tongue! Wha—”  
  
  
“Sorry, Dean. I didn’t expect your tongue in my mouth.” Castiel flushed, failing to meet Dean’s eyes. “I mean, I knew that tongues could be involved but when you did it it was sudden and strange but it was pleasant...”  
  
  
“Cas... It okay...” Dean placed a gentle hand on Castiel’s shoulder and the angel finally makes eye contact. “Could ya fix meh up so we can... ya know...”  
  
  
Castiel beamed and quickly placed two fingers against Dean’s forehead. The hunter stuck his tongue out a couple of times and clucked it to assess its condition.  
  
  
“Ah, much better!” Dean leered at the angel. “So where were we... Wait, are my baby’s lights on— Oomph!”  
  
  
This time it was Castiel that surged forward to latch his mouth to Dean’s. The angel immediately but awkwardly thrust in his tongue catching the hunter off guard. Dean’s eyes widened in shock but quickly closed in pleasure. He pushed Castiel back up against the impala and guided the angel’s tongue with his own.  
  
  
The impala’s windshield wipers and headlights became frantic, swishing and flashing at nearly impossible speeds.  
  
  
After some adjusting, some trial and error, the hunter and the angel soon found themselves on the same page and hungrily devoured one another against the impala. Lips crammed together, tongues wrapping and sliding over each other desperately, hands grabbing at each other for purchase...  
  
  
Though they were both thoroughly enjoying the wet, sloppy make out session, it wasn’t enough.  
  
  
One of Dean’s hands wandered off, fumbling across the sleek black paneling in search of the door handle to the back seat. At this, the impala’s momentarily ceased all actions, like a heart skipping a beat or three. Once recovered, not only did it resume its frantic flashing of lights and swiping of windshield wipers but also all the doors locked simultaneously with a flurry of clicks.  
  
  
When the hunter’s searching hand finally found its quarry, it tugged and yanked at it viciously but to no avail. Dean wrenched back and growled in frustration.  
  
  
“The one fucking time Sam remembers to lock the doors...” Dean regretfully pulls away from the angel to search his pockets for the keys. “One sec, Cas...”  
  
  
Castiel, the more or less monotone angel of the Lord, _whimpers_ , actually _whimpers_ , but waits anxiously.  
  
  
“Holy Hell!” exclaimed Dean at the sound the angel emitted, running a distracted hand through his hair and licking his lips.  
  
  
“...I don’t understand, Dean.”  
  
  
“Wha— Uh... Nothing... Ah!” the hunter victoriously whips out the car keys from the right pocket of his leather jacket.  
  
  
With trembling hand, but a sure grip, he shoves the key in with more force than necessary and, with a click, the door unlocks. Before the impala has a chance to lock itself again, an overzealous Dean wrests the door open.  
  
  
As the hunter turned to get the angel, Castiel grabs Dean by the lapels of his jacket and manhandles him into the backseat. The angel immediately locks their lips together and demonstrates the impressive amount he’s learned in just the last few minutes.  
  
  
Dean is shocked into stillness. His mind goes blank for a split second before exploding with thought.  
  
  
_Holy fuck! Is this really happening?!  
  
  
__Why do I find this so hot?!  
  
  
__Wait, Cas finds this hot too?!!  
  
  
__Fuck, I didn’t know he could... He could...  
  
  
__Christ! He’s amazing!  
  
  
__Fuck! This is hot!  
  
  
__Fuck! He’s hot...  
  
  
__Fuucckk.... What is happening?! This isn’t me... Is it?  
  
  
__...  
  
  
__Hehe... Holy fuck...  
  
  
_ With a hearty laugh, Dean’s mind reboots and he finds himself in the backseat pushed up against the impala door—the windows’ glass cool against the back of his head and the lock knob and door handle digging into his back—with a stock still angel sprawled over him staring at him intensely, bright blue eyes wide with concern.  
  
  
“Dean... Did I do something wrong?” Castiel asked, slowly backing away.  
  
  
“What?! No, no, no, _no_!” Dean latched onto the wrists by both of his shoulders as their hands let go. “It’s just...”  
  
  
“Dean?” the angel gazed so sadly into the Dean’s eyes, it was heartbreaking.  
  
  
“Cas, I’m sorry. It’s just that when you... and then you... and you were... I was so shocked by what you just did that... You kinda broke my brain Cas—”  
  
  
“I did what?!” Castiel panicked. “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to do... What did I do? Doesn’t matter! Are you okay? I’ll fix you—”  
  
  
“Cas, calm down!” Dean grabbed the two fingers that were headed towards his forehead and pushed them aside while his other hand cupped the angel’s stubbly chin roughly to direct Castiel’s gaze to his own. “Cas...”  
  
  
“I’m sorry, Dean...”  
  
  
“Cas, you didn’t do anything wrong.”  
  
  
“I didn’t?”  
  
  
“No, nothing at all. When I said you broke my brain, I meant you broke it in a _good_ way.”  
  
  
“Broke in a... _good..._ way?” Castiel gave the hunter a skeptical look causing Dean to sigh.  
  
  
“Look, I was overwhelmed by how hot you look and how hot it was when you pushed me into my car and sucked my face right off!” he rambled off quickly, getting redder and redder with every word.  
  
  
“Get it now?” Dean asked, not pouting. Nope.  
  
  
“Oh.” the angel grinned broadly. “Broke in a _good_ way.”  
  
  
“Yup! Broke in a good way! Now that we understand each other can we _please_...” Dean slunk his hand up Castiel’s blue tie slowly and sensually, the angel following every move of that hand with bright eyes and bated breath, before suddenly jerking on the silk accessory and pulling its owner into a deep kiss. When they parted briefly for Dean to refill his oxygen deprived lungs, Castiel rasped out his approval.  
  
  
“Yes. This is _more_ than acceptable.”  
  
  
As Castiel eagerly resumed the kiss the radio suddenly blared its objection and both men froze.  
  
  
“Uh... Cas... Is there... You know...”  
  
  
The angel squinted at the radio in intense concentration for a moment but quickly relaxed to resume his earlier activities.  
  
  
“No.” he replied, nuzzling against Dean’s light stubble. “I do not sense any demons, ghosts, vampires or any hostile supernatural creature in the vicinity.”  
  
  
“Sam’s...” Dean breathed out between kisses. “Fruity... ipod jack... must have... messed up... my baby’s— Cas, could you?” he gestured uselessly towards the squealing radio.  
  
  
Without interrupting his ‘activities’—in fact his ‘activities’ escalated—Cas freed a hand briefly to wave it at the radio, silencing it. Having accomplished its objective, the hand redirected to...  
  
  
“Thank yo— Whoa!” Dean jumped when the angel’s hand groped his jean clad ass roughly. “You catch on quickly, Cas.”  
  
  
“I know the mechanics, Dean. I just needed some”—the angel squeezed Dean’s rear again—“ _hands on_ experience.”  
  
  
Dean gasped, “Did you just make a sexual innuendo?!”  
  
  
“Not only do I learn fast, but I learned from the best.”  
  
  
“Cas! Who knew you were such a smooth talker...” the hunter started kissing up the angel’s scratchy throat.  
  
  
“Only you, Dean.”  
  
  
“Enough, Cas. Too sappy. Back to business.”  
  
  
“Busine— Oomph!”  
  
  
Dean silenced the angel and got down to the aforementioned ‘business’ in one swift move: reintroducing his tongue to Castiel’s. Cas quickly succumbed and kissed back enthusiastically. Tongues tangled, pulses quickened, hands roamed... One of Castiel’s hands snaked inside Dean’s jacket and, with surprising accuracy, snagged a certain object from an inner pocket. The hunter didn’t notice until the angel pulled back and waved a foiled packet in his face.  
  
  
“How did you know where— That I—” Dean sputtered.  
  
  
Castiel didn’t answer. Just stared at Dean blankly while holding the sealed condom firmly in his hand. The hunter quickly went through all the scenarios he could think of that would lead to the angel knowing about the condoms in his jacket’s inner pocket. Only one made sense. Well, made sense knowing Castiel.  
  
  
“You were _always_ watching?”  
  
  
“Of course, Dean.” confirmed Castiel as if it would have been strange otherwise.  
  
  
Dean was speechless as he was hit by conflicting feelings. Castiel fidgeted on top of the hunter, suddenly uncomfortable but not understanding why, making Dean flush.  
  
  
“I should be totally turned off by this but...”  
  
  
Dean pulls Cas down by the blue tie and kisses him fiercely, again, only this time he ground his hips up to meet the angel’s hips. Their clothed erections brush causing both of them to moan and Castiel to drop the sealed condom onto the floor.  
  
  
The impalas’ windshield wipers and headlights go berserk and the horn blasted.  
  
  
Dean and Cas still don’t care.  
  
  
Castiel managed to pull away from Dean before things got too heated. Both men were flushed and their hair wild and damp with sweat.  
  
  
“Dean,” Castiel’s voice was even rougher from barely contained passion, “we need to discuss lubrication before we get much farther along. According to my research, human males are not lubricated for penetration down...”  
  
  
“Damnit, Cas!” Dean’s voice was louder than he meant it to be, frustrated that his sexy times had been interrupted by his soon to be lover prattling on like an audio sex ed manual. “Do you have to make it sound so _clinical_?”  
  
  
“I am unaware of the conventional way to request lubrication before we...”  
  
  
Dean crushed his lips against Castiel’s, nipping hard at his angel’s lip and pulling gently to shut him the Hell up.  
  
  
“Just get some damn lube, Cas!” Dean gasped after they pulled apart again. Just as he finished saying this a bottle of lube suddenly appeared in Castiel’s conveniently free hand.  
  
  
“I’ll need... $8.50... When we’re... Done...” the angel rasped between deep, wet kisses.  
  
  
“W-What?” Dean was only half paying attention to words from either party, but Castiel’s breathy statement was strange enough to increase it to three quarters paying attention.  
  
  
“For the lube... Had no time.. To pay the clerk...” replied Castiel breathing heavy as he nuzzled the side of Dean’s prickly jaw.  
  
  
“Clerk—” all of a sudden it clicked and Dean had to pause at the revelation. “Wait, you mean you went to a drug store just now?! Like, _now_ now?!”  
  
  
“...Yes? Where do you think I got this from?” Castiel pulled back slightly to shoot Dean a confused look. “Was that wrong?”  
  
  
“No... It’s just I thought... Well, that was fast...”  
  
  
“I was highly motivated.” Castiel interrupted to explain, resuming his oral explorations of Dean’s jaw.  
  
  
“...and Gabriel makes things out of thin air and I thought all angels—”  
  
  
Cas jerked back at this, “I’m not Gabriel.”  
  
  
He gave Dean an odd look, as if adding ‘ _I thought you knew that_.’  
  
  
“I know! Thank God for that!”  
  
  
“Dean...” Castiel frowned.  
  
  
“What? Oh, right. Sorry.” Dean’s attention returns to the bottle of lube in Castiel’s hand. “Uh... Do you know...? I mean, I know you haven’t... You know... But... Do you know...?” the hunter gestured uselessly at the bottle.  
  
  
“If I’ve understood your meaning,” replied Castiel after staring intensely at Dean, deciphering his rambling, “I know the mechanics but I’ve never applied them. Same as our previous activities.”  
  
  
“Oh.”  
  
  
An awkward silence followed.  
  
  
“Dean?” Castiel asked softly, rough voice tinged with concern.  
  
  
“I’m good! I’m good, Cas!” reassured Dean. “It’s just... Well... Um... Where is that... Going?” The dark of the back seat couldn’t conceal the blood rushing to Dean’s face from the angel.  
  
  
“Well, I’m content simply being with you—”  
  
  
“Cas!” Dean groaned in annoyance.  
  
  
“So it will go where ever you want it to.” Castiel gazed deep into Dean’s eyes, sickeningly sincere.  
Dean gulped audibly, “Well, you’re an angel, right?”  
  
  
“Right.” Castiel replied completely straight faced, his tone serious despite the absurdity of the question.  
  
  
“So you could make it so it doesn’t hurt if I... Well... If that”—the hunter points at the lube—“in... you...”  
  
  
“Yes, I could.” the angel replied sincerely again.  
  
  
“But you could also make it not hurt if _that_ goes... in... me...” Dean rambled.  
  
  
“Again, yes.” you could hear an ‘eye roll’ in the angel’s voice.  
  
  
“But I’ve never... So I don’t know if I like... But I know I like...”  
  
  
“Yes.” though subtle, there was impatience in Castiel’s voice this time.  
  
  
“I can’t believe I’m talking about this—” Dean was about to have a crisis but the angel snapped.  
  
  
“'Dean, this”—Castiel ground his hips down to indicate he was talking about his arousal, the surge of pleasure and the groan that elicited from the hunter was merely a bonus—“was pleasant but it’s rapidly becoming painful so make up your mind before I take matters into my own _hands_.”  
  
  
When all he got in response was silence and a shocked expression, the angel sighed.  
  
  
“Fine.” Castiel said as he tucked the bottle away in his pocket, for now.  
  
  
He sensually stroked Dean’s face with his hand to capture the hunter’s attention. Once the angel was certain the green eyes were focused on him, Castiel slowly traced the stubbled jaw before making good on his threat.  
  
  
He slowly, a little awkwardly, removed his trench coat. Dean was completely enthralled, following all of the angel’s movements. Satisfied that his audience was paying attention, he shoved the coat behind him and brought a hand up to the knot of his tie. He loosened it, slowly but roughly pulling at it, and once satisfied dragged his hand down his chest in a very sexy manner. Down his hand went, caressing the cheap fabric of his shirt. Down, down, down....  
  
  
A familiar rough hand stopped his wandering one by the wrist.  
  
  
“I’ve decided.” said Dean, breathing _very_ heavily as he stared into Castiel’s eyes. “This is your first time. You’re...” Dean suddenly went silent.  
  
  
“I’m..?” prompted the angel, making Dean turn scarlet.  
  
  
“Fine!” Dean growled. “Don’t tell **anyone** that I was _sappy_ but you’re important to me and I want your first time to be special so Iwant _that_ inme...”  
  
  
Castiel actually flushed at this. The gravity of Dean’s awkward statement floored the angel.  
  
  
“Are you certain—”  
  
  
“Dammit, Cas! Don’t make me say it again!” Dean was so very red with embarrassment.  
  
  
“Alright.” Castiel clumsily reached down to the floor and quickly located the forgotten condom. He ripped the foil packaging open with his teeth, the sight which made Dean turn even redder. “Shall we?”  
  
  
Dean’s answer was to pull the angel into a deep, wet kiss.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
“Chuck! I knew you wrote sex scenes but... _homo_ erotica?” Gabriel turned to waggle his eyebrows suggestively. He sat on the arm of a faded and stained love seat leaning against its disgruntled owner and occupant: Chuck Shurley.  
  
  
“I’m impressed!” Gabe whistled, returning to the crumpled loose leaf papers in his hand. “Not only did you write outside your comfort zone, you did a competent job! Very steamy! I can blackmail the shrimp Winchester for years with this—”  
  
  
Chuck turned beet red and scrambled clumsily out from under the archangel and to his slippered feet. He started pacing whilst gesturing wildly.  
  
  
“ _They_ made me! _Those_ fans freaking convinced my agent to do a romantic Dean and Castiel spin off for them! But I couldn’t, I just couldn’t! I mean I know that they’re real now and that everything I write about them happens in reality... And we’re sort of friends.... And I’m not gay so even if I did the research, which would be super unpleasant— _not_ that I have anything against homosexuals, it’s just not my preference—it wouldn’t be... passable. So I had Becky come over to help and I’m not sure what’s worse: writing gay porn myself or watching Becky write it so... enthusiastically... and... accurately... and... with _so_ much detail— Wait!”  
  
  
Chuck suddenly stopped in his tracks, spinning on his heel to point an accusing finger at the archangel in his living room.  
  
  
“Don’t distract me with flattery! G-Gabriel… You’ve really crossed a line! Actually, you’ve crossed a LOT of lines this time!”  
  
  
“...and that’s new?” Gabe drawled out sarcastically before taking a big bite of a baby ruth bar he probably conjured while Chuck ranted.  
  
  
“I know, I know! You’re the big bad prankster—”  
  
  
“Twickster.” the angel corrected through a mouthful of chocolate.  
  
  
“—but this is going too far even for you!”  
  
  
“Um...” Gabriel swallowed the last bite of his chocolate bar before dramatically pretending to consider the prophet’s words. “No, I think this is _very_ much consistent with my personality.”  
  
  
“But—” before Chuck could reply, Gabriel read aloud from a crumpled page.  
  
  
“‘‘ _No, I think this is very much consistent with my personality.’ With those words, the angel disappeared to reap the fruits of his mischievous labor.’_ Hmm, according to your latest page, it’s time for the big reveal! See ya, Chucky!”  
  
  
“Gabriel! Wait—” he was interrupted to a big sloppy kiss to the cheek followed by a rush of cold air and a whisper of feathers. The prophet sighed in frustration and mumbled to the now vacant room. “What could I tell him? It’s done and it can’t be fixed.”  
  
  
He sank back down into his beat up loveseat and buried his face in his hands.  
  
  
“Those poor bastards...”  
  
  
\---  
  
  
The decrepit door to the Winchester’s motel room burst opened from a kick so violent its hinges were nearly jerked out of place. Dean stormed in muttering furiously under his breath and shaking out glass bits from his leather jacket, swiftly followed by a debauched and rumpled Castiel wearing a ‘kicked puppy’ look.  
  
  
“Never. Again!” Dean exclaimed, plopping down on the twin bed farthest from the door. He faced away from Castiel while giving his jacket another couple shakes.  
  
  
“What?” Castiel was clearly stricken by the hunter’s words. “But Dean—"  
  
  
“We’re never doing it in the backseat of my _poor_ baby again!”  
  
  
The angel visibly relaxes at Dean’s elaborative words but flinches when the hunter suddenly turns back and shouts, “Does that happen _every_ time?”  
  
  
“I... I don’t know, Dean...” Castiel is struggling for an answer but he honestly doesn’t know. Dean sees this and it dawns on him _why_ Castiel doesn’t know.  
  
  
“Oh. Right.” he shuffles around on the bed to sit on the opposite and face the angel properly. "Sorry.” he apologizes, rubbing the back of his head abashedly.  
  
  
Castiel still has a confused ‘deer in the headlights’ look so the hunter gets to his feet and awkwardly walks over to the angel, now rubbing his arm in embarrassment.  
  
  
“Sorry, Cas. I know you didn’t mean it... And me getting pissed off at you right after we... Well, you know... It’s not right.”  
  
  
“I understand, Dean.” the angel stares at his shoes in shame. “The vehicle is very important to you and I broke it.”  
  
  
Without missing a beat, Dean grabs the angel by the shoulders to get his attention. Surprised, Castiel whips his head back up and gazes into the hunter’s eyes to find him shaking his head.  
  
  
“I overreacted Cas. It was just the windows. I mean, glass is replaceable. Besides, you broke the windows because"—Dean leered at the angel—“you were _really_ enjoying yourself, right?”  
  
  
“Yes,” Castiel replies, deadpan, “my love for you broke the vehicle’s windows—"  
  
  
“Dammit, Cas. You’ve got to tone it down.”  
  
  
Before the angel could reply, Dean kissed him deeply which effectively distracted him. Castiel gripped him tight and enthusiastically returned the kiss. They made out aggressively for minutes, but just as they started to get handsy as well they were interrupted by the sound of someone throwing up in the bathroom.  
  
  
“What the fu—” Dean exclaimed as the pair swiftly armed themselves and rushed to the bathroom. Dean ripped open the door and shouted. “Freeze, scumbag—"  
  
  
“Sam?” Castiel said, surprised, and lowered his angel sword having recognized the bathroom’s occupant.  
  
  
Sam is hunched over the toilet, one hand holding the plunger next to his face and the other holding a bottle of mouthwash.  
  
  
“Sam?!” Dean uncocks his gun as he lowered it. “What the Hell happened to you man? Wait, how long were you in here—"  
  
  
Seeing Dean and Castiel at the open door with their respective armaments in their hands, Sam drops the plunger and points an accusing finger at them.  
  
  
“YOU!!”  
  
  
The hunter and the angel are taken aback by Sam’s monosyllabic response. They exchanged confused glances. Castiel shakes his head, indicating he didn’t understand, Dean shrugged to communicate the same.  
  
  
“You...?” Dean prompted his brother to which Sam gags, throws up a little in the toilet, then wipes his mouth with his sleeve as he turns back to the lovers.  
  
  
”Fuck, I knew you guys were in love but...” Sam shuddered so hard he couldn’t finish his sentence.  
  
  
“I-In love?” Dean turns red and became extremely fidgety, “Sam, w-what are you going on about—”  
  
  
“Don’t lie to me!” Sam jumped to his feet, only to get dizzy and has to steady himself on the cracked and stained porcelain sink. “I _was_ the car, you jerk!”  
  
  
Those words were followed by a very strained silence.  
  
  
“Wha...? No... You weren’t in the car... Not that I was in the car... But you went to the library on foot...” Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing so tried to rationalize it, pathetically.  
  
  
“I _was_ the IMPALA, Dean!” emphasized Sam sporting a bitch face Dean had never seen before, which only made the hunter panic more. “I knew you had a hard time keeping it in your pants, but, dear _God_ , did you really have to go and defile an angel of the Lord?! And worse yet, make _me_ a part of it?!”  
  
  
“It wasn’t so much a defiling as it was a deflowering.” Castiel said helpfully, well, he thought so.  
  
  
“And that makes it better?!” Sam all but shrieked, “I feel so unclean.” Sam rushed again towards the sink at the filthy thought.  
  
  
“N-no, no, no! There was no defiling or d-deflowering... Wait... Part of... It...? How...? What?” Dean stammered incoherently.  
  
  
“Gabriel,” said Castiel to the ceiling, “what did you do?”  
  
  
The sound of feathered wing flapping suddenly drew everyone’s attention to the closed door. There Gabriel stood, hands raised in the gesture of surrender but his face proved them to be completely insincere.  
  
  
“Oh no," said the archangel, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “The jig is up.”  
  
  
Sam points sharply at Gabriel and growls out, “YOU!!!”  
  
  
“You seem very fond of that word tonight, Sam.” Gabriel crossed his arms and arched his brow at Sam in amusement. “Are you alright? You’re usually more articulate...”  
  
  
The archangel then laughs and laughs. With a roar Sam rushes Gabriel and grabs him by the collar of his shirt only to have the angel vanish out of his grip and reappear on the other side of the room: by the bathroom door where Sam was before..  
  
  
“Tut-tut! Sammy-boy!” Gabriel wags his finger at Sam in the gesture of disapproval further provoking the younger Winchester. Sam growled but Castiel steps in before the boy could resume his attacks.  
  
  
“What did you do, Gabriel?” Castiel glared at the trickster.  
  
  
“Dense as always, little bro!” said Gabriel as he crossed the room, passing a stock still Dean and a raging moose to stand in front of his little brother. “Sam already told you, weren’t you listening?”  
  
  
“No!” barked a very pale Dean. “You’re... You’re lying! You’re **always** lying—”  
  
  
“Look,” Gabriel sighed, “I realize that denial is kind of your thing, Dean-o, but seriously? Think it through, dude! What’s more me? _Pretending_ to turn Sam into your precious Impala or _actually_ turning Sammy into your car? Hmm?”  
  
  
At this, Dean is speechless, try as he might to find his words, and Castiel looks slightly sheepish, but only _slightly_.  
  
  
Castiel turns to Sam, confused yet apologetic, “Sorry for the inconvenience, Sam?”  
  
  
Sam could only glare at the clueless angel.  
  
  
“But how...” Dean sputters, on his last legs so to speak, “How could you know that... That Cas and I... How... We didn’t know... So how did you— Oh God! Sam! He saw... He was...”  
  
  
“I didn’t know, Dean-o.”  
  
  
With no more room for denial, Dean’s brain short circuits and he basically becomes catatonic.  
  
  
“Honestly, I had no idea!” the trickster turns to Sam with a guilty and repentant expression. “This is the only time i'll admit such a thing but... I've... gonetoofarsorrymoose...”  
  
  
“Liar!” Sam lunges at Gabriel but the archangel side steps with ease, laughing hysterically.  
  
  
“Busted!” Gabriel sticks his tongue out at the tall man sprawled out on the floor. “This turned out SOOO much better than I had intended!”  
  
  
“Why you...” Fueled by his fury Sam leaps to his feet and chases the maddening angel around the small, stale room.  
  
  
“I mean, I _really_ didn’t know that those two clueless block heads would finally hook up... but it was a spectacular bonus!” Gabriel laughed and ran and laughed and ran...  
  
  
“Fuck... You!” panted Sam, “You planned ALL of this you twisted sociopath—” he is cut short when Gabriel suddenly whirls about and, with a snap of his fingers, freezes Sam mid stride.  
  
  
“I’m disappointed, Sam! Denial isn’t becoming on your big bro, what makes you think it will be on _you_? Hmm? You’re the smart one? Come on! Think! How was I to know that _this_ would be the night Dean pulls that stick out of his ass—to make room for an _angelic_ one, hehe—and finally admit his feelings for my baby bro, hmm? How was I to know that they would then ‘christen’ their relationship by doing the deed in the backseat of Dean’s baby, just like a certain redheaded angel? Hmm?”  
  
  
Castiel head snapped up at that last statement. It piqued his interest more than he had anticipated.  
  
  
“Anna?” the blue eyed angel goes silent as he tries to process the sudden onslaught of emotion this information bombarded him with. “I’m not sure what I’m feeling right now but... It doesn’t feel good...”  
  
  
An awkward silence fell over the room.  
  
  
As Castiel struggled to realize he was feeling jealousy, the gears in Gabriel’s mind turned as he had a disturbing epiphany.

  
“Oh my dad...” gasped the archangel, “I made you guys have a threesome—”  
  
  
Sam rushes to the washroom to dry heave. Dean’s eyes goes impossibly wide as his knees buckle beneath him and he falls down onto them. Castiel cocks his head to the side in confusion.  
“—WITHOUT ME!” finished the archangel in a whiney voice. He disappeared from by the bed and reappeared in a corner to pout. A little overly dramatic but that was Gabriel for you.  
  
  
“Gabriel, it wouldn’t be a threesome if you had been there.” stated Castiel seriously, the angel missing the point entirely. “It would be a—”  
  
  
Sam gets to his feet, albeit shakily, from the bathroom floor. If he wasn’t hysterical before, after this new ‘perspective’ on the situation came up, he was now.  
  
  
“Th-Threesome! No! NO! I was a car! I wasn’t me! I wasn’t human! I was metal not flesh and blood— I— They— I—”  
  
  
Dean storms out, right past his precious car which he can’t even look at anymore. His baby is beyond tainted now. Castiel’s sad puppy eyes followed the hunter out the door.  
  
  
The angel sighed, “And we had made so much progress...”  
  
  
“Thanks for showing me...” snarked Sam extremely sarcastically before breaking into another violent shudder. Gabriel perks up at this remark as it was an opportunity to _not_ keep his mouth shut.  
  
  
“Don’t you mean… ‘ _including_ ’?” said Gabriel saucily, waggling his eyebrows.  
  
  
“You fucking _asshole_!” Sam snapped, tackling Gabriel to the ground.  
  
  
“Not... me..” cried out Gabriel hysterically between laughs, “Cas..! Cas... Fucked... An asshole—”  
  
  
Sam jerks back and scrambles away as quickly as possible. All the while trembling intensely and trying to scrub the filthy images from his skin.  
  
  
“Hey, that works literally _and_ figuratively!” remarked the archangel from the floor, bursting into another fit of laughter.  
  
  
Well, that is, until Castiel picked him up by the scruff of the neck viciously and held him up so they were eye to eye. Castiel’s glare was so powerful it could have caused Gabriel to combust if he were human.  
  
  
”Thank you very much for what you’ve done tonight, Gabriel.” his voice is even but deeper, more gravelly, and with a very,  _very_ dangerous edge. “I will be sure to return the favor.”  
  
  
With those menacing parting words Castiel tosses Gabriel aside roughly and vanishes, presumably to go after Dean.  
  
  
Gabriel staggers to his feet chuckling as dusts himself off, barely affected considering the strength of the blow.  
  
  
“Well, this was a very productive night—” was all the archangel got out before a roar interrupted him and Sam tackled Gabriel again.  
  
  
Once the Winchester had the angel pinned down, his fury blotting out the fact that he couldn’t do that unless Gabriel let him, Sam starts pounding on his ‘captive’. The hunter only gets a few punches in before the archangel grabs Sam’s wrists with his angelic strength, effectively stopping him.  
  
  
“Sam, you _wound_ me. With the ‘now out of the closet’ duo away, we could... play?” He leered at the human sitting astride him from beneath his lashes and waggles eyebrows suggestively.  
  
  
Sam rips his arms out of Gabriel’s grip, obviously the angel lets him, and storms out of the room much like his brother had, slamming the door shut behind him. The now free Gabriel rolls onto his stomach and calls out after Sam, reaching out dramatically.  
  
  
“No?! Really, Sam? Denying this?” he gestured up and down his body, not that the hunter could see it, before finishing lazily. “Sam. Don’t go. Yatta, yatta...”  
  
  
Gabriel conjures a tootsie pop, unwraps it, and pops it into his mouth with a satisfied smirk. He rolls onto his back and crosses his arms behind his head with satisfaction.  
  
  
“Yup. A very productive night.”  
  
  
The archangel jumps when the door suddenly burst open, smacking loudly against the wall. Gabriel spins back onto his stomach at the noise to see Sam stomp back into the room to loom over him. The angel cranes his neck up to look at the pissed off hunter.  
  
  
“Well, Hello again—”  
  
  
“You want to play?” grunted Sam, wrenching Gabriel to his feet and plucking the sucker out of his mouth. “Let’s play.”  
  
  
The hunter violently kisses Gabriel before the angel could react taking him completely by surprise. Gabriel quickly processes the situation. When a moan of pleasure rumbles in his throat as the giant human plundered his mouth, the angel gives in thinking ‘ _What the fuck!_ ’ This could be fun!’  
  
  
Gabriel suddenly wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck, getting up on his tiptoes to do so, as his tongue dove into the hunter’s mouth and reciprocated enthusiastically. The giant Winchester stumbled, this reaction completely unanticipated. But he soon recovered and redoubled his efforts. Without unlocking their tongues, Gabriel raised a brow at the escalation of the hunter’s smooching. The trickster, being who he was, matched Sam’s pace.  
  
  
That sparked their competitive natures and soon they were trying to outdo each other. Tongues wrestling, teeth nipping, hair pulling, wandering hands groping... Sloppy and heated they unconsciously fell to the bed.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Dean was halfway to the first bar within walking distance when he heard a familiar rush of feathers. He stopped in his tracks, clenching his fists and grinding his teeth.  
  
  
"If that's you, Gabriel, you'd better just go back and leave me alone you feathery pain in the ass!" His gruff voice boomed in the deserted street as he reached for his gun. He knew it wouldn't do any good shooting the archangel, but it would make him feel better.  
  
  
"Rest assured, Dean, that my brother is nowhere near us."  
  
  
Despite his overwhelming rage and humiliation, Dean couldn't help the pleasant shiver that ran up his spine at the rough sound of Castiel’s voice. The smell of fresh baked pie, cherry would be his guess, also helped to subdue his anger. He turned to see a rumpled trench coat wearing angel with a sad puppy face holding... So it _was_ cherry.  
  
  
How can anyone stay mad at an angelic lover bearing _cherry pie_?  
  
  
"I hope that this will make an acceptable peace offering." Castiel sounded unsure which wasn’t a tone that Dean has ever heard, nor ever wanted to hear, from his headstrong warrior of God. "Think of the pie as an apology for both breaking your ‘baby’ and the actions of my brother."  
  
  
"It’s not your fault, Cas... I mean, I kinda helped with the first one..." Dean smiled lamely.  
  
  
Embarrassment and sappy feelings of fondness grappled in his chest at the sight of Cas lighting up at his words and holding out a whole warm cherry pie. Suddenly, life seemed good.  
  
  
“The second was _all_ Gabriel. All of it. So in the end, you hold minimal to no responsibility.”  
  
  
“I will see to it Gabriel is punished, then.” said Castiel, straight faced and completely sincere.  
  
  
“Thanks, Cas.” laughed Dean, accepting the peace pie.  
  
  
“You’re welcome, Dean.” the angel smiled fondly.  
  
  
“Your family is just one major pain in the ass.” Dean leaned over, taking care to hold the pie to the side as he once again took possession of Castiel's lips, nipping and tracing them with his tongue until Castiel returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm.  
  
  
Dean could feel his angel deepen the kiss, followed by the warmth of a hand tracing along the inseam of his pant leg then coming to rest on his groin.  
  
  
“Whoa there, Cas!” Dean jerked back in surprise then chuckled. “We’ve got plenty of time for _that_ , Cas. Pie first, then we can go for round two.”  
  
  
Castiel’s deep piercing gaze seemed to look deep into Dean’s soul, the hunter squirmed under such intense scrutiny, but then the look on his face turned quite predatory.  
  
  
“There will be many ‘rounds’, Dean Winchester,” Castiel’s gravelly voice sent shivers up and down Dean’s spine, more violent than the last time, “but I must be clear: All of your future ‘rounds’ will just be with me and only me for I claim you completely. I will not have you going around copulating with any other women, or other males for that matter, while you are mine. Which you are, Dean. You are now mine and mine alone.”  
  
  
Dean blanched at this. Castiel’s spiel had started out so arousing, but then the opposite and scared the wits out of the hunter. Dean opened his mouth, ready to protest. This was too much, _way_ too much, too fast. All his life, attempts at commitment ended tragically so he never bothered.  
  
  
“Holy shit, Cas...”  
  
  
Also, a commitment with Cas would mean coming to terms that his self-image wasn’t... accurate. Castiel was an angel, a warrior of God, inhabiting a _male_ human body. Interspecies or homosexual relationships never appealed to Dean, in fact the former repulsed him, but Castiel was both, sort of. Christ, this was confusing.  
  
  
“...Dean?”  
  
  
What scared him most, however, was that he _wanted_ Cas. He wanted everything the angel had to offer so very _very_ badly. But he wasn’t gay! He wasn’t monogamous! He didn’t sleep with supernatural creatures, not like Sam did... Well, he didn’t. Not until tonight...  
  
  
“I’m sorry, Dean. If you do not want this, I’ll understand. I’ll pretend tonight never happened...”  
  
  
The fact that Dean wanted this, that he admitted to wanting this (to himself at least), that he had actually taken the risk earlier and succumbed. Dean may be emotionally stunted, but he could do basic math.  
  
  
_Fuck... I love him. I fucking_ love _Cas.  
  
  
_ Dean was in love with the angel. He’s finally realized the truth, though it will be a cold day in Hell before he admits it out loud. Well, admits it aloud _in the immediate future_. He watched the angel clumsily try to repair the damage he thinks he’s done to their relationship. Fondness for the angel swept over Dean, relaxing every fiber of his being. He felt at peace. He’d never felt that way before. That’s when he knew he was about to do the right thing.  
  
  
_Sam is never going to let me live this down...  
  
  
_ “Okay, Cas.” He grumbled. Just because he had a _girly_ epiphany didn't mean he was going to sacrifice his masculinity.  
  
  
“...I’ll always to be there to help even if you decide you don’t want— Wait. What?”  
  
  
“I said ‘Okay’.” repeated Dean gruffly, avoiding looking the angel in the eye. “Just you and me against the world from now on or whatever it is you said.”  
  
  
Dean couldn’t avoid eye contact for long, for at his words Castiel radiated pure happiness and the hunter’s gaze gravitated towards it. The angel’s grin was infectious, breaking down Dean’s nonchalant demeanor and making the hunter smile brightly in turn.  
  
  
Once again Castiel reached out with his free arm and traced a hand along Dean’s strong jaw. Dean leaned into the touch, grateful that no one was around to see his tough guy persona fall apart at the hands of another male. Dean would never admit it out loud, but all of it, all the changes and sacrifices and humiliations, was worth Cas. Maybe Castiel would prove to be the one he could settle down with, even if it had never seen himself doing so with anyone, much less a _supernatural male_.  
  
  
Plus, tonight had been the best sex he had ever had.  
  
  
Bonus.  
  
  
“You’re thinking too hard again, Dean.” Castiel’s voice broke into his thoughts again. “No more thinking. Just feel."  
  
  
Dean found himself drifting even farther into the feeling of Castiel’s fingertips exploring his stubble and his pants became tight once again—it had only been a few hours and yet he was already wanting more of Cas—but the feel of the pie box slipping from his fingers reminded him of its presence.  
  
  
“You know, the pie can wait." his voice deeper with lust, "Could you put this somewhere for safekeeping? Right now I just need you."  
  
  
Dean blinked and with the sound of of rustling the air rushed around him. The hunter knew the angel had just zapped him somewhere and for once Dean wasn't mad. All he wanted was his angel and if the feel Castiel's suddenly bare flesh was any indication, that’s what he was getting.  
  
  
So Dean didn't bother to ask where they had been zapped too seeing as he was safe and about to have a _very_ good time. Castiel was in his arms again and seemed intent on laying claim to him in every way possible, especially seeing as both their clothes have _mysteriously_ gone missing. Of course, the hunter was more than happy to oblige. Chuckling, Dean reciprocated by wrapping his arms around the angel only to be distracted by a breeze caressing his flesh leaving behind goosebumps.  
  
  
“Wha...?” Dean finally took look at his new surrounding and did a double take. “Wait, is this...? Are we...?”  
  
  
“I thought it was time that we come here together in person rather than in a dream.”  
  
  
“Wow...” The lake was beautiful under the moonlight, but something was off. “Wait, if we’re on the dock why is it so soft... Pillows?” Dean arched a brow, holding up one of the many plain but extremely soft pillows in question.  
  
  
“I took the _only_ good page out of Gabriel’s book and took some... steps to ensure privacy and comfort.”  
  
  
“So you planned this or are you just that fast?”  
  
  
“...I’ve thought about it but I never made preparations...”  
  
  
“Boy, angel airlines is fast— Wait, you’ve _thought_ about _this_?” Dean couldn’t help but leer at this little tidbit of information. “Just _how_ much of our current situation have you thought about _before_ tonight?”  
  
  
Castiel’s flush was answer enough. Laughing, Dean fell back against the pillows, pulling the angel down with him for a deep kiss. They made out at their leisure, out here they had plenty of time. That is, until Dean suddenly jerked back violently.  
  
  
“Argh! I can’t even look at my baby anymore.” Dean pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and shuddered miserably, memories of the disturbing revelations from earlier resurfacing with a vengeance.  
  
  
“I might be able to help with that.” Castiel put a reassuring hand on Dean’s trembling shoulder, encouraging the hunter to meet his steady and loving gaze. The angel’s appearance—his hair messier than usual and his lips red from their heavy make out session—helped soothe and distract Dean.  
  
  
“...Really?” asked Dean hopefully. He didn't want to have to salt and burn his baby, but he knew of no way he could ever look at his beloved impala again without thinking of the disgusting trick that Gabriel had pulled on them. His precious car was pretty thoroughly tainted.  
  
  
Castiel traced the anti-possession tattoo on Dean’s chest with his fingertip before sensually trailing it up to the mark— _his_ mark—on Dean’s shoulder: the angel’s handprint seared into the hunter’s flesh which had unwittingly signified the beginning of their bond.  
  
  
“I could help recondition you...” His voice rumbled, low and seductive.  
  
  
“Wait, what?” Dean gasped, his lust filled mind trying to make sense of what Castiel had told him, so lost in Castiel he didn’t have the sense to fear the terrible possibilities—Memory wipe? Brainwashing?—those words held. Or the good possibilities. Or anything, really. He blinked a few times in a futile attempt to clear his head enough to get a grasp on the conversation.  
  
  
“Train your mind to disassociate the combined thoughts of ‘Sam’, ‘Sex’ and ‘Impala’ from your car and instead associate the vehicle with thoughts of a... more _pleasant_ nature...” Castiel ran his thumb gently up and down the hand shaped scar as he gently explained in a breathy voice, eyes half closed in pleasure.  
  
  
“I don’t think I can... In the i-impala... Not again...” Dean gasped, conflicted. Castiel’s sensual affections were so very, _very_ appealing but the memories were still there repulsing him from his lover’s subtle yet specific suggestion.  
  
  
“We can start slow. Start with the exterior and... work our way _in_. Maybe begin on the hood of the impala?” Castiel continued, ignoring Dean’s protests. His face moving closer so that he was not quite touching Dean’s lips with his own.  
  
  
Dean felt his pulse quicken a great deal at Castiel’s impressive wordplay, especially impressive considering it’s Cas. _Finally_ Dean’s arousal was beginning to overpower his fear. Sweat began to bead along his upper lip. His tongue darted out to clean it off only to be captured in a quick but hard kiss from Castiel.  
  
  
“Then maybe up against the door...” Castiel continued after he released Dean from the hot kiss, his hands exploring the hunter’s torso in compensation. “Perhaps on top of the trunk, too. Or up against the back windshield... Eventually we’ll work our way back inside, front seat maybe?” The hand that wandered low reached even lower and began to caress Dean’s erection.  
  
  
"However, for _this_ round... _I_ would like to be the one penetrated this time..." Castiel mumbled alluringly against Dean's lips. "I wish to be able to feel what _you_ did earlier as you seemed to enjoy it very much."  
  
  
Dean muttered something that he hoped was a positive response, finding it much harder to get his mind to form anything even remotely resembling thought.  
  
  
Apparently he had or Castiel was fluent in _Brain-Dead-Dean_.  
  
  
Either way, the angel got the message.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
The morning sun struggled through the filth of the motel room curtains. The few victorious rays tickled Sam’s cheek, revealing the mess that was once his glorious mane and the drool dribbling down his chin. With a groan, the Winchester slowly awakened. He lethargically brushed the sweat slicked strands of hair from his damp forehead and wipes away the saliva trickling from the corner of his mouth. The cottonmouth was nasty, and surprising seeing as he was just drooling. Groggily, he pulled himself up enough to rest on his elbows and, squinting, took stock of his surroundings.  
  
  
“Where... Where are my...” garbled Sam as he lazily lifted the gaudy comforter and confirmed that he was in fact naked, “Fuck... Where... Oh...”  
  
  
He found them on the floor, on the dresser, on the bathroom’s door knob, on the lamp... Basically everywhere except on _him_. He ran a nervous hand through his greasy bed head but froze mid stroke when his situation dawned on him. A quick glance to his left confirmed his memories and all he could do was bury his face into his hands and groan pitifully.  
  
  
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuccckkk....”  
  
  
“Yes, please!”  
  
  
“Holy fuck!” Sam nearly jumped out of his skin and out of the bed.  
  
  
The hunter had forgotten that angels don’t sleep. Gabriel must have been pretending to snooze to fool Sam’s sleep addled brain because the nude trickster was suddenly on top of the covers in a ‘seductive’ and extremely revealing pose all the while waggling his eyebrows.  
  
  
“Yes, it really was.” said Gabriel lewdly, his fingers trailing up and down the hunter’s large bicep playfully. “Did I hear you asking for another round~?”  
  
  
“Nooo! Back off— Hey! No touching!” Sam smacked away the angel’s wandering hands frantically and scrambled away, nearly falling off the edge of the bed in a tangled heap of sheets.  
  
  
“That’s not what you said last night~” sing-songed the angel in rebuttal as he slowly and lecherously pursued his prey.  
  
  
“How are you _still_ alive?!”  
  
  
Sam’s sudden outburst stopped Gabriel in his tracks. The angel had no idea what the hunter meant by this emphatic exclamation. He sat back on his haunches took a moment to process the perplexing words, tapping his index finger on his chin.  
  
  
“Ah! Ha!” he snapped his fingers when he finally deciphered the seemingly unexpected question. “You’re talking about your cursed penis, right? You’re worried that your cursed—”  
  
  
Sam paled when the archangel stopped mid-sentence. The hunter knew he’d been found out. The angry frown that formed on Gabriel’s face confirmed it.  
  
  
“Wait...You were trying to _kill_ me?!”  
  
  
Sam looked away guiltily, not bothering to answer.  
  
  
“Oh. My. Dad! You _were_ trying to kill me!” exclaimed Gabriel, looking completely affronted.  
  
  
“Uh...” Sam was at a complete loss, trapped in a room with a powerful archangel who knows the hunter attempted to kill him.  
  
  
Naked.  
  
  
With his penis.  
  
  
Sam was _so_ boned.  
  
  
...Again.  
  
  
...In a different way.  
  
  
Shit.  
  
  
“Silly, silly moose.” laughed Gabriel, his hurt demeanor replaced with his trickster persona in the blink of an eye. Sam gawked at the mercurial angel.  
  
  
“I am honored that the great Sam Winchester tried to kill me with his _penis_...” Sam snapped out of his stupor and glared at Gabriel as this statement caused his suspicion and rage to resurface with a vengeance. “Just _one_ flaw with you plan... You’re supposed to use that glorious cursed object _in_ me but if you recall, because _I_ most certainly do, _I’m_ the one who used my not-at-all-cursed dic—”  
  
  
“Shut _up_!” Sam hysterically hit the angel in the face with his lumpy pillow, his face turning an impressive shade of scarlet. Gabriel only laughed which only deepened the hunter’s despair. Sam groaned loudly and buried his face into his hands in frustration.  
  
  
“Sammy-boy, relax!” chuckled Gabriel as he slapped Sam on the back, still laughing. Always laughing. Sam couldn’t take it anymore.  
  
  
“Stop!” the hunter slapped away Gabriel’s hand again and hopelessly pulled away. “Just... Just stop! Just...” He pulled his knees up to his chest and rests his cheek on them dejectedly to stare off into the distance. With a sad sigh, his shoulders droop and his limbs go slack.  
  
  
Sam Winchester gives up.  
  
  
Gabriel was so dumbfounded by utterly defeated Sam Winchester, his expression actually falters and looks almost... human.  
  
  
“...I’m sorry, Sam.”  
  
  
”Yeah...” Sam snorts cynically. “Sure you are...”  
  
  
”Yes.” Gabriel puts a surprisingly gentle hand on Sam’s shoulder, surprising the hunter. “I _really_ am sorry.”  
  
  
Sam’s head jerks up to meet Gabriel’s eyes and glared. The glare didn’t last long, however, as his eyes widened in confusion when he sees the sincerity in the angel’s eyes. Taken aback, he takes a good long look of Gabriel. Sam didn’t see a trickster sitting naked next to him anymore. He didn’t know what was sitting next to him naked now.  
  
  
“Is this another joke?” asked Sam, his eyes narrowed, “or is there really more to you than tricks?”  
  
  
“Honestly?”  
  
  
“No.” snapped Sam, glaring. “Lie to me some more because that’s going _really_ well.”  
  
  
“Well, it kinda is seeing as we’re here—” started Gabriel flippantly, until he caught sight of Sam’s bitch face of ultimate doom. “Uh... Right... Sorry, it’s kind of a reflex now.”  
  
  
This strangely sincere demeanor softened the hunter’s bitch face as Sam was unsure how to process it.  
  
  
“Honesty... Wow, that’s hard. Okay. Let’s see. Since I left Heaven, I became Loki. I am Loki. It’s me, so, it’s not a persona...”  
  
  
That was definitely _not_ what Sam wanted to hear. With this, the hunter was done with this entire situation, done with Gabriel. He whips the sheets off and moves to get up but the self-professed trickster stops him by his wrist.  
  
“But then I met you, Moose— Er, Sam. Sorry... Reflex.” Gabriel finished lamely.  
  
  
Sam turned slowly in Gabriel’s grip, a look of wonder on his face. Acknowledging that the hunter wasn’t going to flee anymore, he lets go.  
  
  
“...You’re serious?”  
  
  
“First time for everything.” shrugged Gabriel prompting another bitch face from Sam. “Yes, Sam. I’m serious.”  
  
  
“...Holy. Shit.” the hunter’s response elicited a chuckle and a smirk from Gabriel.  
  
  
“Appropriate word choice, Sammy.”  
  
  
Sam snorted but smiled broadly, “don’t call me Sammy.”  
  
  
“Fine, _Moose_.” sighed Gabriel dramatically. Sam laughed earnestly and shoved the archangel playfully.  
  
  
“Asshole!” the hunter tackled the trickster and they roughhoused on the bed, getting tangled in the sheets, until Sam’s cell phone went off in his discarded jeans which were on the floor.  
  
  
Laughing, Sam awkwardly disentangles himself from the clingy angel and falls off the bed. Laughing harder, he crawled to his jeans and fishes his phone from a pocket. Feebly containing his laughter, he flips open the phone and answers.  
  
  
“Hello? Hehe... Oh.” Sam’s expression goes slack. “Hi... Dean...”  
  
  
Gabriel, still on the bed wrapped in the cheap linens, starts chuckling but goes quiet when Sam turns back briefly to glare at him.  
  
  
“No, I haven’t eaten yet... Breakfast? O-okay... What’s the address— What? No, no, everything’s fine! The address? Yeah. Uh huh. Okay, see you in an hour. Bye!” Sam snaps phone shut, not looking at the trickster.  
  
  
An awkward silence followed.  
  
  
Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Sam returns to stand next to the bed. He looked down sternly at the trickster.  
  
  
“You _will_ behave.”  
  
  
“Hmm...” Gabriel playfully takes his time to answer. “Okay, but I have one condition.” He waggles eyebrows suggestively and Sam smirks.  
  
  
“If I understand your ‘condition’...” the hunter pounces on the angel. “I accept, _if_ you make it quick.”  
  
  
“Kiss to seal the deal?” Gabriel puckered his lips in an exaggerated manner, also making kissing sounds.  
  
  
“I thought that was only demons?” said Sam, arching a brow.  
  
  
“I can be anything you want— Oomph!”  
  
  
Sam silences the mouthy trickster with a deep kiss and they fall back onto the stiff motel mattress.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Dean and Castiel were on their way to the diner where they were meeting Sam. The angel had zapped them to a secluded alley couple blocks away from their destination. Castiel trailed behind the hunter but remained as close as he could without his mercurial lover protesting about personal space. Though, as of late, Dean’s concept of ‘personal space’ had shrunk considerably.  
  
  
“Just remember, Cas... Go easy on the whole ‘couply’ thing for a bit.” Dean was telling Castiel, yet again, before quickly attempting to smooth over the rough delivery, _again_. “Not that I’m ashamed or anything! It’s just that I want to give Sammy a chance to calm down... I mean, thanks to your dick brother, I think we almost broke his brain last night... and not in the good way!”  
  
  
Castiel frowned and clenched his jaw just a bit. It had taken so much to get Dean to accept him and after all the astounding progress they had made last night Dean’s need to keep the angel a secret did feel like a bit of a rejection. Then again, Castiel had anticipated this. It was _Dean_ , after all. The emotionally stunted, image conscious, macho hunter. But knowing that didn’t lessen the sting of becoming a ‘dirty little secret’ at all. But the angel pushed the hurt aside because he understood that it was more than that: that since before he could remember, Dean cared about his brother above all others. Sam was Dean’s blood and responsibility. It would just take some time to find his own place in this dynamic and probably even _more_ time to overcome the hunter’s many other issues.  
  
  
“Very well, Dean. I will do as you wish, but know that sooner or later your brother _will_ have to learn to accept our new relationship. I will abide by human concepts of decency and your wishes, but only so far...” though Castiel didn't say it out loud, he did agree with _some_ of Dean’s concerns. Not many, but some. The angel knew that there were some aspects of human love that he would prefer to engage in with Dean while they were _away_ from prying eyes.  
  
  
“I’m sure he will. He’s princess Samantha after all, but we just need to remember to hang a sock or something in the future...” Dean told Castiel, who just looked confused at the reference that went over his halo. Frustrated over that little missed reference, and Dean overall, Castiel made a promise to himself to try and learn more about humans so he could eventually make _some_ sense of his lover.  
  
  
Any further conversation was cut short, however, when the taller but younger Winchester walked over to them. Speak of the devil and all that. Sam was pretty much a moving landmark and had no more trouble spotting Dean and Cas then they did of spotting him.  
  
  
Dean, though taken aback by his baby brother’s sudden appearance, still managed a genuine smile and waved. The smile didn’t last as it turned out his brother had company. Dean snarled when he spotted a shorter figure walking next to Sam, babbling at him while waving a red sucker around.  
  
  
“What the Hell is _he_ doing here?” Dean shot a Gabriel a pissed off look while next to him Castiel tensed, though he was more worried about what his angry human lover would do considering how difficult he was when the archangel _wasn’t_ around. Gabriel’s presence only exacerbated things. Case in point: yesterday. It had taken the rest of last night and most of the morning to get Dean to calm down from his brother’s cruel prank.  
  
  
“He’s here to apologize.” replied Sam with ease, because who wouldn’t anticipate this reaction from Dean. “Right, Gabe?” he nudged his companion gently with his elbow.  
  
  
“I was?” Sam elbows the trickster viciously at the response. “Oomph! I mean, yup! I was. … Wait, did you just call me Gabe?”  
  
  
“Oh for crying out loud...” sighed Sam, rolling his eyes fondly. “Let’s just head in so we can sort things...”  
  
  
Dean snorted in disbelief but doesn’t hesitate to take up his brother’s recommendation. Crankily, he bangs open the diner door and stomps in followed by his sighing moose of a brother. Castiel moves to follow but is stopped by a powerful hand on the shoulder.  
  
  
The blue eyed angel whirls about to find his brother smirking knowingly at him. His eyes widened when he translated the archangel’s wordless message: _So... Baby bro’s first make up sex. I’m so proud! How was it?  
  
  
_ Castiel cocks his head to the side in his usual confused manner. His lip twitches to reply but he remains silent when he suddenly notices something different about Gabriel, about his grace. The younger angel gawks at his elder when he realizes what Gabriel had been up to after he had stormed out last night.  
  
  
Gabriel’s smirk falls when he realizes he’s been found out and rushes after the Winchester brothers into the diner.  
  
  
Castiel, bristling, unsure how to feel or react, follows the guilty angel into the diner. He finds Dean flopping into a booth to sprawl over most of the seat and settle into the corner. He’s attempting to pout in a ‘manly’ manner. Castiel awkwardly fits himself next to the miserable hunter. Awkwardly because Dean was taking up most of the seat _and_ because the angel was now aware of the current relationship status of the pair seating themselves across the table.  
  
  
Sam squeezed himself into the opposite seat with Gabriel sliding in smoothly next to Sam, wrapping an arm around the giant while waggling his eyebrows. Castiel frowned because of Dean’s anticipated reaction.  
  
  
“What the FUCK?!” Dean bolted upright but his brother beat him to it.  
  
  
“Dammit, Gabe!” exclaimed Sam, smacking the angel’s arm off his shoulders.  
  
  
“Awe, Moose... If you don’t want me affectionate you should stop with the cute nickname...” Gabriel leaned in to bat lashes annoyingly but suddenly jumps. “Ow, what the... Cas? Did you just kick me?!”  
  
  
“I believe you had something to say, Gabriel.” said Castiel completely straight faced, completely ignoring the archangel’s accusation effectively throwing Gabriel off.  
  
  
“Wha? Oh! Right...” clearing his throat, Gabriel sits up and his expression becomes serious and repentant, which is scary in itself. “Dean, Castiel, Sam... I apologize for last night. I mean, I _don’t_ apologize for turning Sam into the impala, but I _do_ apologize for not changing him back when I saw where you two... were... going... to... you know...”  
  
  
If it would be physically possible, Dean would be shooting steam out of his ears on top of being tomato red.  
  
  
“Thank you, Gabriel, for your surprisingly sincere apology.” said Castiel while the flustered hunter sitting next to him floundered for words. Strangely enough, the angel’s words drew a glare from Dean but made him articulate again.  
  
  
“I-I-I just don’t get it?!”—spat out Dean—“Last night was Hell on earth, but you _are_ evil so it makes sense! But now you’re apologizing? What the Hell?! Wait... Are you possessed?! Do I finally get to gank you—” the hunter reaches for his concealed gun but Castiel grabs his arm and stops him.  
  
  
“It’s not working, Sam. Do I still get the brownie points?” asked Gabriel, his contrite demeanor gone as he ignored the pair across from him. The archangel now donned a ‘kicked puppy’ aura.  
  
  
“Brownie points?!” sputtered Dean.  
  
  
“Gabriel, what the Hell are you doing?!” Sam tried to keep his voice low, but failed. “You freaking agreed before we left—”  
  
  
“Agreed on?” Dean gaped. “Did you make a _deal_ with this guy?! Angels make deals? Or was it a trickster deal—”  
  
  
“What?! No!” Sam quickly denied, waving the conclusions off frantically only to get screwed over. Not in the good way, obviously.  
  
  
“Define _deal_...”  
  
  
“Gabe! What the _Hell_?!”  
  
  
The archangel’s reply was to sneak a hand up Sam’s thigh making the younger Winchester jump.  
  
  
“Jesus Christ!” exclaimed Sam when his knees slammed up against the underside of the table, causing it to jerk and its contents to tremble violently.  
  
  
“Awe, what happened to _Gabe._ ” Gabriel gave Sam a very insincere look of hurt, his lower lip trembling just a bit, though his eyes still held that spark of mischief.  
  
  
“I freaking knew it! You played me this morning! Move! I’m leaving—” Sam’s voice rose in agitation as he shot Gabriel an annoyed glare, finding himself wishing he could get his hands on an angel blade.  
  
  
Dean slammed his hands down hard on the table and pushed himself out of his seat, looking like he was ready to make a grab at the trickster. “PLAYED?! What the fuck did he—?”  
  
  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Down, Sammy- Er... Sam! I was— _am_ —serious!” Suddenly Gabriel’s face went from its normal teasing to truly serious and sincerely more than a little concerned.  
  
  
“Move, Gabriel!” Sam snapped as he attempted to push his way past Gabriel. Despite the angel’s smaller size it wasn’t working, but that was probably because only his _vessel_ was smaller. Gabriel stayed firmly in his seat, though he did turn and push a hand against Sam’s chest in an attempt to get the irritated hunter to keep seated.  
  
  
“Please calm down! I want you to call me ‘Gabe’ again!” Gabriel did his best to calm Sam down, something that he was quite new at. Being serious was hard.  
  
  
Sam stopped trying to escape, though he still glared at Gabriel, his jaw clenched in agitation. On the other side of the table both Cas and Dean watched the interaction, Cas with his normal detachment and Dean with growing realization.  
  
  
“I can change, but not the core of my personality, Sammy. I am who I am...” Gabriel has strain to meet Sam’s eyes, but he did so, willing the human to see his rare sincerity as well as to accept that part of him would still always to be the trickster.  
  
  
“Right... But you can understand my mistrust..” Sam grumbled, still not sure if he wanted to give into Gabriel again.  
  
  
“Yeah... Which is why I’m trying _really_ hard.”  
  
  
Sam felt himself melt. It was hard to stay angry at Gabriel when he talked like that. True, he was a pain in the ass, but at least he was trying to be better. Plus, that face was just too irresistible. Speaking of, they gazed at each other, Sam with a goofy grin and Gabriel wearing a smirk, silently for a beat too long.  
  
  
“...No.” Dean saw now exactly what had happened between his brother and that pain in the ass angel and he didn't like the sight at all.  
  
  
“Dean...” Castiel saw his new lover’s jaw clench and knew what was about to happen, he quickly grasped at Dean’s arm, a small gesture that he hoped would have a calming effect on the quick tempered hunter.  
  
  
“This is a fucking joke, right? Cas, tell me that the Sam sitting in front of me is a fake conjured by your asshole brother! Please...” Dean slumped back in the chair, and began to rub at his forehead with his hand as he attempted to rationalize what he had just witnessed.  
  
  
Castiel just sat there, his hand still on Dean’s arm knowing that there was nothing he could say to defuse the situation. It was now between the two brothers.  
  
  
“You. FUCKED. My. Brother?!!!” Dean finally snapped again, pointing a finger at Gabriel as he fought the urge to grab a gun and shoot Gabriel between the eyes, still knowing that it wouldn’t do any good but, damn it, shooting him point blank would just make him feel better.  
  
  
“Well, you fucked mine first so it was only fair...” Gabriel stuck his tongue out at Dean and was back to being snarky now that Sam was placated. The archangel was not at all scared that the hunter was once again in his pissed off mode. _Hello_! Archangel!  
  
  
“You _fucked_ this asshole?!” Dean’s head swung around to shoot Sam a glare, though his thumb jabbed in the direction of Gabriel.  
  
  
“Uh...” Sam attempted to think of the response that would piss his brother off the _least_ , and _that_ having been all he could come up with said a lot in itself.  
  
  
“Technically, _I_ fucked _this_ ” Gabriel gestured at Sam the way a model would do to highlight a prize on a game show, “asshole...”  
  
  
“Shut the fuck up!” Dean snapped as he shuddered at the thought of his baby brother being together with that feathered pain in the ass, pun totally and _completely_ unintended. Dean shuddered again.  
  
  
“Gabriel!” Sam wasn’t ready to admit how embarrassing it was that he squeaked at Gabriel’s comment.  
  
  
“You!” Dean returned his attention to his brother. “Now look who’s talking about defiling an angel. Next time just keep your big mouth shut! ...Bitch!” Dean all but growled at his younger brother, not at all caring at this time about what the other people in the restaurant thought of the bizarre conversation.  
  
  
“Jerk!!” Sam shot back at his brother, not ready to back down, “You have an angel now, so I got my own!” He felt it necessary to point that out.  
  
  
“NOW YOU'RE TALKING LIKE HIM?!!” Dean was surprised at Sam’s quick and snarky comeback. Well, not so much surprised that he _had_ quick and snarky comeback but that it was a _trickster style_ one.  
  
  
While the two brothers bickered back and forth Gabriel leaned back in his seat and gave a deep and long laugh. Though he might be trying to change that didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy a bit of chaos. Dean reached down to pick up his butter knife and chuck at Gabe’s head expertly. Of course the archangel was able to easily dodge the cheap cutlery with an obnoxiously cheeky grin. Castiel watched the lot of them with a sigh of fond exasperation. It seemed like some things would never change, like Dean and Gabriel inability to get along.  
  
  
But some things _do_.  
  
  
Here they were, team free will (plus one), peaceful and content. Yesterday this would have cast a menacing cloud of doubt to loom over Dean Winchester as he waits for the other shoe to drop. He was once bitten thus twice shy—well, ‘once’ was an _enormous_ understatement—so it was understandable that good things would scare him.  
  
  
He wasn’t now.  
  
  
Sitting here with Castiel by his side while he argued with his beloved brother and, though he will never admit it aloud _ever_ , fighting with the trickster... All their demons seemed so very far away and their Hell taint was gone—something that none of them thought possible—and in the absence of darkness, they radiated an aura of peace and happiness that brightened and polished everything it touched: the diner’s peeling wallpaper smoothed over, the scuffs on the floor buffed and polished, the tears in the booth seats sealed themselves up, the pie was perfectly warmed and it’s delicious scent much more potent.  
  
  
The rundown middle of nowhere diner wasn't rundown or in the middle of nowhere this morning.  
  
  
Not with team free will (plus one) there.  
  
  
It didn’t stop with the diner: The surrounding flora was soothed, no longer overgrown and the colors more vibrant, the wildlife was calm, the air was crisp and clean, and the sun shone brighter yet its rays were gentle.  
  
  
Dean had found what he believed he would never find: Paradise.  
  
  
“Hey, Dean-o! Why are you daydreaming like a lovelorn teenage girl when your boyfriend is sitting right there giving you the goo-goo eyes—”  
  
  
“Shut up, Asshole!”  
  
  
_Almost_ Paradise.  
  
  
  
**THE END**


End file.
